


Unity

by evilmouse



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kyber Crystals, Lothal, My First NonSmut, My First Work in This Fandom, Sweet, Tropes, Unresolved Sexual Tension, thryce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 23:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17755871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilmouse/pseuds/evilmouse
Summary: When Governor Pryce decides to hunt for a giant kyber crystal in her family's old mine, Thrawn offers to accompany her.  Written for the Thryce Discord Random Trope Challenge





	Unity

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to staticsticks for her supportive beta-ing!

_We can form a single, united body, while the enemy must be split up into factions. ~ Sun Tzu_

“I will accompany you.”

“YOU!?” The word just burst from her lips and Governor Arihnda Pryce instantly wanted to take it back. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the offer; indeed, his statement made her chest feel a little odd, her stomach agitated, but not in a bad way. But before she could offer an apology or try to soften it, the man standing before her responded, implacable as always.

“The usage of the first-person pronoun would indicate that was my meaning, yes.”

He was _teasing,_ she knew it instinctively, although she wouldn’t have been able to explain what gave it away. The even delivery was no different than when he was discussing tactics with subordinates or giving commands on the bridge. 

She didn’t see humor often on his face, but thought she recognized it somehow in his aura, if nothing else. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d known him years now, and despite the professional distance they’d carefully maintained, Grand Admiral Thrawn was the closest thing Pryce had to a friend.

She took a deep breath and tried to hide her confusion.

“That’s a very generous offer, Grand Admiral, but I doubt that this type of excursion would rise to the level of importance or responsibility required for your personal attention.”

It was a nicely formed sentence; Pryce was pleased with how it had come out. 

She had only mentioned to the Grand Admiral her intention to personally look into past Imperial Security Bureau intelligence about kyber crystals on Lothal. One after-action report dissecting the Empire’s loss of a huge kyber crystal to Rebel interference three years prior had been intriguing. It had reminded Pryce of some information she’d read regarding an old offshoot of her family mine that backed up into unexplored caverns. After much research and a few minor bribes, she’d discovered the Aqualish words used on the last known map of the cave could be translated as “monster crystal.” It wouldn’t hurt to investigate.

“One could say the same of an Imperial Governor…” Thrawn inclined his head slightly as if checking that she was listening, halting her train of thought. There was a lightness to his tone, and Pryce felt even more unsettled by it.

He had a point. He _always_ had a point, and Pryce unconsciously mirrored the tilt of his head, seeing a flash in his glowing red eyes that she couldn’t begin to interpret. 

“It’s my planet,” she started, feeling like she had to justify herself and not sure why. “And it was my family’s property…” She was faltering, the thought of her parents, as usual, her weakness. “If something is there, I want to find it.” 

Pryce straightened, noticing she had started to lean against the desk behind her, and smoothed the front of her slate grey uniform.

“After, if there is anything to be found,” she waved her hand dismissively, “I’ll bring in the proper administrators and teams to extract it.”

The truth was, she wanted the credit for finding it. And despite already having achieved more politically than she had realized she wanted, Pryce had stopped thinking of being Governor as her end goal, and more as a stepping stone. She _could_ rise higher, and connecting the Empire with a giant kyber crystal, so important in the creation of massive weaponry, would definitely make her planet, and by extension, herself, a more desirable ally. She was desperate that the Emperor and leaders on Coruscant stop thinking of Lothal as a Rebellion cesspool or misfit recruiting ground, and this would do the trick. She was certain.

Thrawn was no longer tilting his head at her. He had crossed his arms in front of his pristine white military tunic, meeting her blue eyes directly. He was looking _through_ her, as if he had read her mind and knew all her ulterior motives. His biceps stretched the material of his sleeves, the regulation cut preposterously flattering to his musculature. Thrawn’s unruffled expression looked carved from glacial ice, and Pryce braced herself for whatever he was going to say, suspecting impending criticism and not in the mood for it.

“Governor Pryce,” her name rolled off his tongue with a low rumble that she felt places she probably shouldn’t. “May I be frank?”

He paused, and she realized he was waiting for assent. She nodded, briefly, saw that was insufficient, and sighed, relenting. He wanted a verbal sanction. She knew he was going to say Rebels could be hiding there, or it was too dangerous to go alone, or it was folly for someone of her station to tackle spelunking, even if she was planning on going on her own time (tomorrow was a weekend, after all), or some other eminently reasonable and indisputable argument. And she didn’t know how she’d respond, but Pryce knew she wasn’t going to be able to avoid it. Thrawn’s logic was like his posture: linear and unyielding.

“Please, Grand Admiral, that would be most appreciated.”

He cocked one elegant eyebrow, and lowered it just as quickly. 

“A moment ago, I said ‘I will accompany you.’ Perhaps I misspoke. Allow me to rephrase.” He hesitated, his eyes searching hers as he weighed the words. “I would like to accompany you.”

 _Like?!_ Pryce managed to keep that from escaping in the same blunt manner as her earlier reaction, but she was no less stunned. More, even. This was not at all what she’d expected… _What in the galaxy…_

But Thrawn continued.

“Since the fleet’s deployment to this sector, I have not left the _Chimaera._ To quote Grand General Brashin, ‘We are not fit to lead our military unless we are familiar with the face of the planet—its mountains and forests, its pitfalls and precipices…’ And, I would imagine, he would have included, its mines and caverns.” 

Thrawn uncrossed his arms, looking less stern than a moment ago. “I believe this is the perfect opportunity to become familiar with Lothal’s underground terrain.” One corner of his mouth twitched as if he were trying not to smile, a distinctly disturbing effect. “And I have no doubt you will be an excellent guide, Governor Pryce.”

Flattery wasn’t really his thing, Pryce thought unkindly, but maybe there was something to what he said. And certainly she hadn’t relished the idea of going alone into the caves, but it had seemed necessary. Still, she had to be certain he would not attempt to take credit for whatever they found down there. This would be _her_ success, not his.

“Thank you for your confidence, Grand Admiral,” she said smoothly, feeling more relaxed now that a decision had been reached. “Of course you are welcome to join me, with the understanding that…”

He cut her off, not his normal style, Pryce thought, surprised as Thrawn spoke over her, sounding almost tired.

“Of course, Governor. I assure you I have no interest in doing anything more than observing,” he looked at her appraisingly, all too openly for her taste, as if she were lacking something. “And assisting, should you require it.”

She nodded once, curtly, still annoyed at being interrupted and feeling a strange tingle from his visual scan. His tone was too much like her father’s when he thought she was overreacting to something.

“Well then,” Pryce said, starting towards the door, “I will see you tomorrow morning at the mine’s side entrance. I’ll send you the details.”

“I look forward to it, Governor,” Thrawn responded, as the portal swished closed behind her.

~o~

The next day, Thrawn met her at the coordinates she’d relayed, at the time she’d indicated. He was early, as was she, expecting him to be. 

Pryce bit back a smile at the rather civilian outfit the Grand Admiral had donned. He was wearing something similar to a technician or mechanic’s cargo pants, much looser and more relaxed looking than his naval uniform, covered by a light beige jacket and carrying a small pack. The V-cut of the tight shirt underneath gave her an excellent view of blue skin and prominent collarbones that were half-hidden by the jacket’s collar, and Pryce dragged her eyes with difficulty up to Thrawn’s face. Her examination had not gone unnoticed. She felt like she should say something, to acknowledge she’d been looking.

“I…” His blazing eyes were unwavering and she lost her intended phrase, biting her lip. “That’s a different look for you, Grand Admiral.”

And then Thrawn smiled, a strange expression. There was something feral about it--too many shining white teeth, too unexpected. It was like he was about to take a bite out of someone or something, and Pryce resisted the urge to take a step back.

“Indeed.” He indicated her outfit with a small movement of his chin. “And for you, Governor.”

It was an accurate observation—she was wearing what Pryce would have called her “mining clothes.” Water-resistant and bright, they were practical caving gear, tight-fitting to get through crevices and around rocks. She also had a pack, a rope, glow rods, and rations. She was ready for a long day. Pryce knew Thrawn had certainly never seen her in anything like this, although she’d been casually dressed at the dojo when he visited…a long time ago.

“True,” she tried to return his smile, but didn’t feel like she did such a good job. He looked quite comfortable with this whole thing, and suddenly Pryce didn’t feel comfortable at all.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Thrawn continued.

“Perhaps we can dispense with my title then, today, Governor. Please call me Thrawn. After all,” he indicated his clothing with a modest sweep of his hand, “I am off duty.”

Pryce knew she took too long to respond, brain numb from the shift in his demeanor and attitude. He was still quite proper, and his language perfectly correct, but the somehow regal stiffness that she associated with the Grand Admiral was lacking. She shook her head as if to clear it, then realized she must seem a fool. Did she offer him the same familiarity? To not do so would be insulting, she decided, although she had worked so hard for her title and station; this seemed an unnecessary capitulation.

“Of course, Thrawn,” she replied, proud at how composed she sounded. Certainly she’d used his name by itself before, when in informal discussion with other politicians, or Colonel Yularen, but this…this was markedly different. “And so I should be Arihnda,” she continued, before adding with some emphasis, “for _today._ ”

His smile was still there, a little less teeth in it, and Thrawn gave her a small bow. “Excellent. Arihnda.”

He started for the mine entrance, and Pryce stood rooted to the spot, the syllables of her name and the adjective preceding it ringing in her ears like something windswept and lovely from his lips. She liked her name, always had, but Thrawn had managed to make it sound like a poem unto itself, and she was entranced. Something about his accent, or his enunciation, or the emphasis on the first syllable rather than the second, as most people pronounced it.

“Arihnda?”

There it was again, and she turned, seeing Thrawn waiting just inside the mouth of the mine. She made a fist with her hand, blunt nails digging into the palm. She had to stop being ridiculous and behaving like a schoolgirl. It was just a name—it wasn’t like it meant anything. And Thrawn may be off duty, but she had work to do.

Resisting the urge to glance at his face as she brushed past him into the damp and dark of the cave, Pryce felt more at ease. She knew these places, and she was going to find this “monster crystal” and use it for the benefit of Lothal, and more importantly, herself.

The glow rod scattered its red light along the walls as they moved deeper into the mine. Pryce had noticed with approval that Thrawn carried the same, the color much less taxing on the eyes for prolonged periods in the dark. She should have expected as much. He was nothing if not thorough and well-informed for his military missions. But perhaps as his eyes were so different than her own, it wasn’t a requirement for him?

They moved for several minutes in the dimly lit shaft wordlessly, and Pryce decided to ask. She knew nothing about his species, and it was a natural question, after all.

“Can you see better than humans?” Her voice sounded far too loud after the hundreds of meters they’d already descended in silence, and she flinched at the echo. 

“Differently, I believe,” Thrawn responded quietly. “Better may be a subjective concept, in this instance.”

That wasn’t exactly informative, but Pryce let it go, gritting her teeth as they took a turn down a slippery offshoot of the main tunnel. 

She knew where they were going, and so far the mine’s pathways matched the map she’d memorized. She moved gingerly along the rock, condensation making its smooth surface even more treacherous. Debating as to whether or not she should mention to take care, Pryce decided to stay quiet. Thrawn was perfectly capable of making the same observation, and would no doubt adjust his steps accordingly.

A few meters later, her own foot slipped. Pryce swore, her right ankle twisting as she braced herself to hit the rock, only to be caught firmly from behind. Thrawn had one hand on her elbow, the other at her hip as he stopped her fall and moved her effortlessly upright.

Pryce cursed again, trying not to think about how strong he was, a current of electricity dancing along her skin where he steadied her. 

Thawn let go without a sound.

They had stopped in the passage, and Pryce heard nothing but her own breathing and the lazy drip of moisture falling to the floor. Why didn’t he speak? He was so comfortable with silence. It drove her nuts. She wanted to talk, if for no other reason than to ward off the confusing bloom of heat that had just begun in her belly and was threatening to spread to her cheeks. She quickly lowered the glow rod away from her face, pretending to check the ground as she fought back the embarrassment of almost falling and her reaction to his touch.

“Are you unhurt, Arihnda?”

She scowled. Of course she was, she thought, grunting an affirmative and setting off again down the tunnel. She placed her feet a bit more heavily, flinching at the dull throb that struck suddenly in her ankle. She _was_ unhurt, but this … this would be a problem if she wasn’t careful. Trying to give the appearance of walking normally, Pryce put more weight on her left leg as they continued down the passageway.

Why had she let him have the right to her first name? That was the thought rattling around her brain right now. It wasn’t that she minded, not really, she told herself, but it _did_ give him some sort of power, especially in these moments when she was less than sure of herself. Pushing away that unhelpful contemplation, Pryce gave a little sigh of satisfaction as they turned down a narrower shaft. This was the direct route to the crystal grotto, and while it was going to be a long hike, it meant they were still on track.

Quickly it became clear that the easy part of the trek had ended. They had to sit and slither between stalactites and stalagmites that were touching like lovers over a balcony. That was followed by a long underground pool, unavoidable and not as shallow as it looked. Thrawn volunteered to test the depth, but she’d ignored him and paid the price. The cold water did feel good on her swollen ankle though.

A short time later, glow rods held in their teeth, they navigated a narrow stone bridge over a chasm. Still Thrawn stayed silent, and Pryce started to wonder more about his motivations. Surely he didn’t plan to lead his troops through this type of terrain. The Empire would just blast anyone hiding in a place like this into oblivion… so what was the real reason he’d chosen to accompany her?

The question incited tightness in her chest, and she almost missed the next turn. The ceiling was getting lower and lower and soon they would need to belly crawl. The mined areas were far behind them, and although they’d only been inside for two and a half standard hours, Pryce felt tired. She had been so excited about this, but now she was wondering at her own foolishness. Surely she could have sent a team and taken the credit for the discovery. But no, if they hadn’t found anything, she would have been unable to put aside her own frustrations and embarrassment. This way was better, hard as it was, she assured herself.

“Arihnda…”

His voice was a gentle murmur in the shadows, although every time she exhaled the sound felt as subtle as the cry of a shriek-hawk.

“Thrawn?”

She tried to match his tone, but cringed at the dissonance. Her voice seemed brittle and annoyed, not what she was going for.

“Perhaps we should rest a moment.”

Her mouth was already open to refuse, but she could use a break, and a snack wasn’t a bad idea.

She nodded, then realized he probably couldn’t see that small movement in the darkness, and found her voice, pleased that she sounded a bit less shrill.

“Just a moment, then.”

Pryce perched on a small stone, checking first to make sure it wasn’t soaking wet. Damp, yes, but everything here was damp. Damp she could handle. Her feet were still squishing in their boots from the damn pool she’d waded through. Thrawn propped his glow rod against the wall, the angle somehow completely illuminating the cramped cavern they were resting in, drawing the shadows downward rather than up. It was a nice effect, except for the way the red light offset his eyes, which glowed with a brighter fire than usual. He settled cross-legged on the cave floor, quite close and facing her.

“Have you done this before?” she asked, surprised as the question came out. She hadn’t thought before asking.

Thrawn nodded, considering how to answer. He unwrapped a ration bar and broke it in two, handing her half. Pryce took it automatically, feeling stupid for not explaining she had her own.

“Yes, but not rock and mineral networks. Ice.” He sounded strange, like the memory wasn’t a pleasant one. “My home planet’s terrain is primarily glaciers and caves.”

The information startled her. Pryce couldn’t remember Thrawn ever mentioning his home world before. 

“Sounds cold.”

He smiled a little, the flash of teeth again something so rare that she felt off balance at the sight. 

“It is.”

The confirmation made her realize that _she_ was cold, the cave water having settled firmly into her socks, although her clothes had mostly dried. She should have brought an extra pair. It was a stupid mistake, and she definitely should have known better. In her youth, Pryce had spent time in caves, and extra underthings were mandatory for any outing, even something as brief as a picnic lunch near the latest ore discovery.

“Do you miss it?” Another question that escaped her mouth before her brain had time to catch up. Covering her embarrassment at the personal question, Pryce took a bite of the ration bar. It was good, better than the ones she’d brought, at least.

Thrawn looked straight at her, apparently as surprised by her question as she had been. Although his face didn’t seem to change, Pryce knew she was getting better at reading him. She could sense his mood or reactions sometimes, even if they weren’t exactly visually perceptible or explainable.

“The simple answer is yes,” he admitted. And the note of sadness she again felt, not heard, made her regret the insensitivity of the question. She’d read his file. He was an exile. He couldn’t go home. What a stupid thing to ask.

“I’m sorry,” she forced out the words, her frustration at herself poorly concealed. “That was...” She searched for the word. Unthinking? Inappropriate? But he finished her phrase before she found one.

“That was a logical follow up question, Arihnda,” Thrawn said, “to pose to someone speaking of home.”

So he was making an excuse for her. That was gracious of him. And he kept using her name, far more than he’d ever used her title. She liked it, but she wasn’t sure that she liked that she liked it. So Pryce stood up abruptly, brushing imaginary crumbs from her fingertips against her pants.

“Shall we?”

So they continued deeper into the caverns. A little over one standard hour later, they arrived at a steep drop off. According to the map, this was the final stretch. Under the lip of the cliff rock in front of them should be the entrance to an anthodite cave full of kyber crystals. Hopefully, the giant one she sought would be among them.

They both had rope, which wound up being fortuitous, as the drop off was deeper than Pryce had anticipated. Thrawn knotted the two cords together and gestured to her as he held several loops in his hands.

“What?” She didn’t move. What were those loops for?

“I will tie you into the harness,” he said, stepping closer. If she could have backed away, she would have, and it was only the edge of the rocky platform that kept her immobile.

“I thought we would rappel,” Pryce said, tentatively. 

She had expected him to argue, to make a case for his idea, but instead he held her gaze for one, two, ten seconds, as if reading the options in her eyes.

“Very well,” he said, stepping back and handing her the rope. “I did not know you could rappel.” He sounded almost apologetic, and Pryce took it as a victory.

“You don’t know everything about me, Thrawn,” she smiled, pleased at her ability to surprise him with resourcefulness, if nothing else. It almost made up for her earlier stumble. But then that memory sent a ripple of heat through her as she recalled his hands, sure and strong against her skin and thin pants.

“No,” he agreed, “I do not.” She looked at him, and he added her name, as if testing something. “Arihnda.” Once again she felt it in her stomach, and tried to ignore it, decided not to. He was toying with her, perhaps, or trying to recover from his assumption she couldn’t rappel.

And she suddenly grew bold. 

“Do you like my name, Thrawn?” she smiled at him, trying to make his name sound half as interesting as hers on his tongue.

He didn’t answer right away, and she was embarrassed again, looking back down to the rope. Why had she tried to bait him? Pryce quickly assembled the rappelling gear, knotting the cords with practiced fingers.

“It is an unusual name,” he replied then, a bit louder than necessary. And that wasn’t an answer to her question.

Pryce snorted. “And Mitth’raw’nuruodo? That’s rather unusual, isn’t it?”

Again the silence, and Pryce wondered at it, finally raising her eyes from the ropes and meeting his gaze. 

“What?” She was on the defensive now. _He started it…_ she thought, like a petulant child.

“You pronounced that almost perfectly,” Thrawn said, his eyebrows indicating surprise more clearly than she’d ever seen. Interesting to witness such a human expression on his face. Pryce knew it was a compliment of sorts, but that “almost” grated, regardless.

“What part of it was wrong?” she challenged.

“The first part.” He saw she was waiting. “Mith…not Mitth. Pretend the second ‘t’ is not there.”

“Mitth’raw’nuruodo.” She tried again, for some reason wanting to get it right, sensing its importance. She’d never heard anyone call Thrawn his full name to his face, now that she thought about it. It felt daring, her lungs contracting inside her chest.

“Yes.”

He sounded…pleased. Pryce wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, now that she’d mastered it.

“Would you prefer that instead of Thrawn, Mitth’raw’nuruodo?” she asked, feeling the name singing off her tongue now. “For today, I mean,” she added, needlessly.

He looked at her as if he didn’t recognize her, and Pryce lost whatever confidence she’d gained when he answered.

“I have no preference, Arihnda.”

Deflated somewhat, she made no reply and finished the harness, accepting Thrawn’s help to anchor the rope before she set off down into the abyss. It was impossibly dark, and even the glow rod twisted into her belt wasn’t sufficient to illuminate the bottom. For a moment she thought she must have miscalculated, perhaps there wouldn’t be enough rope, but no, finally, just when her triceps threatened to shake and her knees locked up, she saw the ground. It was a sizable jump; the rope _was_ too short, by less than two meters. She could do it, though, and they could find something to stand on to climb back up, Pryce decided. She’d come too far to let a little air stop her.

She’d forgotten about her ankle. The landing took the wind out of her. Pryce couldn’t help the sucking gasp of pain that resulted as she hit the unforgiving stone surface. Her glow rod tumbled out of her pants and rolled away. Rather than get it, she sat, waiting. Her ankle was pulsing, the ache becoming something sharper and more insistent, and she was going to delay its dominance a little while, if possible.

But if she thought she’d have a nice respite while awaiting Thrawn’s arrival, she was wrong. He joined her less than a minute later, jumping down with more grace than she’d been able to muster, at her side before she could get up.

“Your ankle is injured.”

It wasn’t a question, and Pryce decided not to argue. 

“It’s not bad, I just twisted it a little. Anyway,” she jerked her head towards the small rectangular opening behind them, “we’re here. No point in stopping.”

Thrawn’s red eyes became slits, but he didn’t contradict her. Mute, he retrieved her glow rod and waited for her to get to her feet. 

Apparently she didn’t rise fast enough, as he bent slightly, his right arm sliding under her left forearm, gripping behind the elbow and lifting her easily. It was a novel way to be supported, almost like a dance move, and Pryce’s fingers reflexively closed around the inside of his arm. His hand was smooth on her skin, and she wished for a moment that she could feel the texture of his arm beneath the jacket. Dry and cool like his hand, or would it be more rough, hotter… _Alien._ Her brain supplied the word. She was still holding him. He was just still, waiting.

“Thank you,” she said, letting go and taking the glow rod from his other hand. She could sense something, a tension, that wasn’t there before. And she could hear his breathing now—soft, slow, even, but audible. It was a sound she liked far too much for what it was. Respiration shouldn’t … be so distracting, she thought, unable to come up with anything else.

Holding up the red stick in her fingers, Pryce crouched, ignoring the protest in her joints, and moved under the broken rock wall to the cavern on the other side.

The crystal grotto was vast. Large adjectives couldn’t quite do it justice. There was light here, but its source was uncertain. Pools of mineral-shaded water speckled the uneven expanse of stone, with shimmering waters of oranges and pinks competing for supremacy with neon blues and greens. Crystals were everywhere—not kyber crystals, but needle-like formations that spiked out from every surface. The visual was overwhelming, and rather inhospitable. The sharp, pin-like protrusions covered the walls, the rocks, the floor. In order to walk, Pryce and Thrawn had to crush the delicate formations with their boots. It was a loud, crackling, angry sound, and Pryce’s forehead wrinkled as she braced herself for each step. 

The glow rods were still needed at times, but less so, with the illumination of some hidden openings or phosphorescence careening and reflecting off the crystals. Occasionally, if she was unlucky enough to catch the light wrong, it would pierce her eyeball just as purely as if one of the anthodites had impaled it. Pryce squinted, trying to decide how best to proceed.

Thrawn did not seem to have the same issues as she did, however, and clearly was finding navigating the crystal-strewn floor easier. 

“It’s hard to see…to focus on anything,” she grimaced, hoping Thrawn had an idea.

He stepped in front of her, and through the cracks in her eyelids she could see his face far too close, evaluating. Her eyes started to water.

“Is it painful?” The question was not as clinical as she would have expected, and Thrawn seemed genuinely concerned.

“No,” she answered, wiping at her face and letting her eyes fall closed. “It’s just the light, it stings after all the darkness.”

“Yes,” he agreed unhelpfully. But then she heard him unzip his pack and rummage around. A moment later, the wiry loops of glareshades slid over her ears.

Pryce opened her eyes all the way with real relief. It was nice to have everything tinted an agreeable, even brown. Thrawn looked bizarre, his blue skin a chocolate color through the lenses. Her amusement must have shown, because he looked quizzically at her.

“Why did you bring these,” she wondered aloud, “if you don’t need them?”

“For you,” he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Pryce thought that was slightly presumptuous, and maybe even patronizing, and instantly regretted the question. Still, the words made her feel a thin trickle of something warm that moved from her scalp down to the base of her spine, and she couldn’t decide if that was a nice feeling or an upsetting one. 

She responded with a non-committal sort of sound, a cross between a “hmph” and an “mmm,” and pushed past him, continuing deeper into the chamber.

The glareshades were soothing, but Pryce quickly realized that it was difficult to discern the hiding places of kyber crystals with them on. She would have to remove them to find what she was looking for. As if to punctuate the thought, seconds later Thrawn tapped her shoulder. She spun quickly, seeing him holding a brilliant, pulsing kyber crystal between his fingers. Lowering the shades to see its true color, Pryce peered closely, eyes adjusting to the light. 

It was a bright orange, the hue even more garish set against the deep blue of Thrawn’s fingers. Pryce couldn’t remember ever seeing an orange kyber crystal, and this one fascinated her. The fact that it seemed to vibrate, to throb with life, also took her breath away. Thrawn obviously expected her to take it, and she did, tentatively, fingertips brushing his as he released it to her hold. Almost immediately, the crystal’s color turned a duller, more normal shade. It was distressing in a way that Pryce couldn’t verbalize, and she found herself suddenly hating the thing. What made it live under Thrawn’s touch and die in hers? She pushed it back at him, trying to stifle the irrational anger swelling in her chest.

He took it without question, quickly pocketing the crystal before its glow could reassert itself too obviously.

“It’s pretty,” she managed, trying to recover.

“Yes,” Thrawn said, a slight shift in his posture asking more of a question than his agreement indicated.

The harsh light of the cave started to prick at her eyes again, but Pryce forced herself not to show discomfort, holding the glareshades out to him.

“I don’t think I need these anymore.” She felt ungrateful, suddenly, and added, “Thank you, though.”

“You are welcome,” he responded, sliding them into an inside jacket pocket, obviously not believing they would no longer be required. It irritated her, but instead Pryce decided to return to the task at hand.

“How did you find it? I’m not seeing anything except the white…the clear anthodites.”

Thrawn looked as if he didn’t know exactly how to answer. Pryce waited. She could be just as implacable as him, at times.

“I am not certain,” he admitted. “I was looking at the floor, the formations, and …” his eyes met hers, as if they could explain what words could not. “It was there. Obvious, as if waiting for me to notice it.”

Thrawn was clearly not comfortable with this truth, and Pryce thought she understood why. There was nothing particularly factual or helpful to procedure if one “just noticed” a kyber crystal. If the rocks announced themselves when they wanted to be found…that was highly inconvenient. She did recall reading something once, an article that posited that perhaps kybers were sentient, or semi-sentient. She wondered if Thrawn’s discovery, and its clear preference for his touch over hers, indicated something along those lines.

“You should keep it,” she said generously, ignoring the fact that he already intended to do so, having stowed it in his pocket. It couldn’t hurt to remind him that this was her territory, her mission. He was supposedly mapping topography and learning geology, not hunting for kyber crystals.

“Thank you, Arihnda,” he murmured, with no clear indication of whether or not he felt her benediction was superfluous. She found herself grateful for the courtesy nonetheless.

“You are welcome, Thrawn,” she returned, trying to mimic his serious tone as she turned from him and started looking more closely at the formations. Surely a giant kyber crystal would be easily spotted… especially since most of the other shards around were pin-like, needling, and easily crushed.

They searched quite a long time, and Pryce began to feel a sense of frustration as fatigue set in. Her eyes strained raw and abused in their sockets, her ankle was only worsening, and her inability to identify any kyber crystals was starting to feel like a personal failure. The feeling intensified when Thrawn approached her again, this time holding out a blood red kyber crystal. It looked dark and dusty in his hand.

Biting back her annoyance at his success, she shook her head, not wanting to touch it. It was already a muted shade, what if it turned black, or faded in her fingers? But then she realized Thrawn might keep this one as well, so she reluctantly plucked the gem from his palm. 

This time, the crystal flared to life, then seemed to burn out. It was a brilliant, fiery supernova in her fingertips, and then…like ash. Pryce couldn’t decide if this was better or worse than what had happened with the orange, and decided not to evaluate it further. She placed the fragment in her front pants pocket and nodded her thanks, wincing as she accidentally put too much weight on her right leg as she turned to continue the search.

Suddenly Thrawn was in front of her, again his hands offering assistance. She shook him off.

“I’m fine.”

“You are not, Arihnda.” His words brooked no argument, and Pryce found herself surrendering to the gentle pressure of his arm as he supported her weight. His boots kicked a smooth area to her right and he set her down on the ground amongst the fractured shards of minerals he’d just destroyed.

Before she was even aware of what he intended, he had begun unlacing her right boot. This would be embarrassing, she knew, for a thousand reasons. He’d see the swelling, know she’d been lying about the pain, and to top it all off, she was pretty sure her wet sock wouldn’t smell so great. 

“I should not have let you continue,” he said quietly, almost to himself, as he clinically slid the sock from her foot. 

“What makes you think you could have stopped me?” Pryce was genuinely curious. This was her excursion, after all, and it wasn’t like he could give her orders. The question apparently made him reconsider, and evidently Thrawn had decided to let it go, as he pulled out a field dressing from his small pack. _What else did he have in there?_ Pryce wondered.

“I could have stopped you,” he finally said, matter of factly. Although Pryce knew she should be annoyed, or insulted, his skillful wrapping of her ankle felt so good that she managed to swallow her contradictions. For a moment, at least. 

“How?”

His head tilted up from its attention to her foot, his gaze locked on hers. It was as if he were trying to determine if she was attempting an argument or actually curious. A slight curve of his lips seemed to indicate he had a few ideas that he wasn’t planning on sharing. Pryce felt that strange heat return to her stomach, spreading outward, reaching her toes where she was extremely, painfully aware that his confident hands were resting.

“Perhaps you would inform me, Arihnda, as to what would have been the most effective method,” he replied, eyes still studying hers, “to deter…or distract you from your plan.”

There was something too intense there, and Pryce felt she absolutely needed to resist it, or … she wasn’t sure what, but instantly the air temperature rocketed, and she was afraid of what that meant. So she scoffed, trying to sound incredulous.

“Asking the prey how to catch it, Thrawn? What sort of strategy is that? Does it ever work?”

His curved lips split into a smile, rapidly controlled into a thin line. Thrawn’s hands left her ankle, searching for something else in his pack as he answered. 

“Different opponents require different tactics.” She could hear the amusement in his deep voice, as he turned back to her with a spare pair of socks in his hand. She wanted to curse at him for making her feel so unprepared, but desperately wanted dry feet, so bit back the vitriol. “And solid tactical maneuvering turns misfortune into gain.”

Pryce wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at, but decided she didn’t need his treatise on military strategy or a lecture on the art of defeating one’s enemy. 

“Didn’t realize I was an opponent,” she retorted, trying to keep her voice light as he slid the thick woolen sock over her foot. There was something extremely intimate in the action, and Pryce shifted involuntarily as he pulled it higher than necessary, hands moving under the cuff of her pant leg, halfway up the calf. She was perfectly capable of putting on a pair of socks herself, but neither of them seemed to consider this option as Thrawn replaced and laced her boot, and then started pulling off the left, followed swiftly by the other wet sock. 

“You are no more my opponent than my prey, Arihnda…” Thrawn spoke, voice soft and the words somehow holding both menace and indulgence. Pryce held her breath and waited for him to continue, mesmerized by the assurance and gentleness of his hands and the way her name drifted from his lips. 

Thrawn turned her foot to the left, right, his thumb grazing the bump of her ankle bone as if to ensure it hadn’t suffered any of the indignities of its twin, and then once again the dry sock glided over her toes, heel, up mid-shin. If his fingers lingered there longer than required, neither of them were willing to remark upon it. Pryce kept her eyes fixed to her leg and his ministrations, even when she felt his gaze shift to her face. She bit her lip, hard, focusing on anything but the inexplicable surge of pressure that had just smacked into her chest.

“However, if your actions threaten your own welfare, we _are_ opposed in purpose.”

Slowly, he drew her boot back on the foot, lacing it expertly. He never did anything inexpertly, she thought with a strange mixture of pique and admiration.

“An opposition,” Thrawn stood up from his crouch, looking down at her with his usual unreadable expression, “I would most certainly like to avoid.” He offered her a hand, and she took it, pulling herself to her feet, somehow just inches away from him as she stood upright.

Her ankle felt a million times better, and Pryce wanted to thank him, but pride resisted. She hadn’t asked for his help…but was glad he’d forced it upon her, she supposed.

“That’s much better,” she admitted. “Thank you, Thrawn.” She realized then she was still holding his hand, and looked at it stupidly, as if unsure how to extract her fingers from his grasp. He released her, perhaps misinterpreting her look as irritation, and Pryce felt an absurd pang of disappointment, rapidly suffocated and buried in her heart.

Without another word, she set off once more, sighing with relief at the tight binding keeping her right ankle secure and supported. She should have revealed the discomfort earlier, she supposed, but how was she supposed to know that Thrawn had a survival kit and compression bandages in his little bag of gear? Shaking her head, Pryce tried to concentrate on the crystals. They had to find a giant one, and so far, she’d been unable to find any—it was Thrawn whose disconcerting eyes had been drawn to them. Something she didn’t want to dwell on, but also something that made her glad she’d let him come with her. If she had a blind spot regarding kyber crystals, at least her companion did not.

They picked their way through the cavern, wreaking fragmented carnage with their boots on the thin spikes littering the ground, smashing occasionally through ancient rock formations to push deeper into the cave. The bright light had given way to gloom and dank once more, and Pryce was thankful for the reprieve. Not long after they’d ducked beneath a dripping sheet of helictite, Thrawn rested one hand on her shoulder, his face alongside hers, and pointed with his other.

“There.”

Pryce narrowed her eyes, trying to follow the line of his finger while ignoring his proximity and the inevitable distraction it caused. 

“I don’t …” she began, frustrated, but Thrawn was undeterred. Perhaps he sensed the importance of the discovery to her, wanting to allow her a eureka moment. He moved his face closer to hers, cheeks almost touching, so they would have a similar vantage. 

“Your hand.”

She raised it, unthinking, unable to refuse anything at this moment, completely undone by a pleasant twist in her stomach and a trebling of her heart rate. Thrawn took her right hand in his, tilted his head gently against hers as if to confirm her line of sight, and then guided her index finger in the general direction he’d been pointing. But this time she saw it.

Pryce gasped, her eyes widened, completely forgetting everything else for a moment. She _saw_ it. It was sheltered, somehow cradled in a bed of flowstones, whose mineral waters shed grey drops into the pool beneath. The largest kyber crystal she’d ever seen, perhaps the largest that existed. And it was hers. 

Abruptly she remembered the man next to her, and let out a breath. Thrawn had no ambitions for this object, she reminded herself, he’d said as much. It was truly hers, and now she could offer it to the Empire, an asset unmatched in the galaxy. 

Pryce lowered her hand, stepping forward, no longer looking at the floor, eyes riveted to the gigantic crystal lying protected and dormant before her. Thrawn’s hand on her bicep stopped her, firm and strong.

“It may be unwise to approach, Arihnda.” He sounded cautious, something she thought she’d rarely, if ever heard from his lips. 

“Why? It’s not alive. It can’t…attack.” Even as she said the words, his fingers tightened against her, fixing her to the spot. “Let me go, Thrawn.”

But he made no move to release her, voice more calm now. “It may not be alive, but that does not mean it is not dangerous.” He took one, two steps, and now was in front of her, blocking her path to the crystal and its flowstone altar. “You have found it. Now let the authorities extract it and you may...” he glanced over her shoulder, avoiding her eyes, “claim the benefits.”

Pryce shook her head, jerking her arm free from his grasp. She knew he had released her, knew that if he wanted to restrain her, there was nothing she could do about it. The thought sent a thrill through her center, and the sensation bothered her as much as excited her. Thrawn would not stop her. Nothing would stop her. She wanted to see it up close, to touch it, to absorb some of its strange power, if possible. She deserved that—she’d come this far.

But she underestimated her companion. Thrawn apparently knew or sensed something about the kyber crystal that she could not, and he winced as she took another step towards it. She knew before he tried that he was going to stop her again, and so she sprinted, heading for the shiny, hyaline surface, wanting to touch. She ignored the renewed stab of pain in her ankle, the apprehension, tinged with fear, coating her tongue.

“Arihnda! Wait!”

She’d never heard Thrawn sound like that, she thought, not slowing. She wouldn’t think about it now—later, later there would be time to consider the concern, or aggravation, or whatever had shaded his words to turn them hot and desperate. 

Almost there…and then there was a huge crack, the sound of the planet itself protesting, and the crystal shook on its platform, the stones surrounding it trembling.

Suddenly, viscerally afraid, Pryce skidded to a halt three meters from the alcove sheltering the crystal. Another splinter, like thunder, echoing loudly in the dim cavern. Thrawn was at her side immediately, and without hesitation grabbed her bodily, tossing her over his shoulder as if she were a sack of fern potatoes. He ran, and she cursed, then shut up as a fissure sliced through the ground alongside his path. Pryce squeezed her eyes closed, bouncing along, not sure if she was furious, terrified, or embarrassed. Perhaps all three.

Ducking back under the helictite curtain, Thrawn decided they were safe, and deposited her once again on her feet. Pryce felt unsteady, and swore softly as she had to brace herself on his shoulder before gaining her equilibrium. Thrawn, for his part, seemed unfazed, breath already evening out, motionless before her.

She mentally counted to ten, not looking up from the cavern floor, then decided she needed to count again. Finally, Pryce felt sufficiently calm to address what had just happened.

“Is it gone?” Her voice trembled, and Pryce rolled her lips between her teeth, upset at her own reaction. Thrawn’s eyes bore into hers, burning with a deeper red than she could recall seeing before.

“I do not believe so,” Thrawn replied, precisely, carefully. “It was us that it wanted gone, rather.”

She nodded, although nothing about it made sense. Thrawn seemed to realize that, and offered more information.

“The kyber crystal appears sentient,” he started, sounding more like himself. “And it warned us, but …”

“But I didn’t understand. And you did.” She didn’t mean for it to come out accusingly, but there it was. Why did Thrawn see the crystals, and apparently hear or understand them? What was so wrong with her that she was denied the same ability? Was it a Force thing, some Jedi mumbo jumbo? Or was Thrawn’s species somehow attuned to rock language as well? Certainly he had never mentioned Force sensitivity, or offered any opinion on that ancient religion.

“Yes.” Unhelpful, but honest, at least, Pryce thought at his agreement.

“Yes,” she echoed.

~o~

They made it back to the drop off without incident, Pryce thankful the whole way for Thrawn’s taciturn nature. She had nothing to say, and was worried if he tried to converse that regrettable words would gush out of her like a torrent. She would ask too many questions, look for too much meaning, seek his understanding when she couldn’t make sense of her own thoughts. It would be counterproductive, and unpleasant, she was certain. So she bit her tongue, and Thrawn kept silent.

She didn’t protest as he climbed up before her, knowing somehow that he was going to do something smart and facilitating to help her make the ascent. Sure enough, a few minutes later a woven harness dropped before her. She could loop the cords around her thighs. Wondering how Thrawn had made the rope long enough to reach the bottom, she settled in and let him pull her up. 

The mystery of the additional length was explained at the top. His jacket had been sacrificed for her convenience, and she wanted to acknowledge it, or thank him, but the words didn’t come.

He looked at her once she’d removed the harness, as if assessing her ability to continue, and Pryce decided she wanted a rest before he could suggest one. She sat down, reaching into her own pack and splitting one of her decidedly less appetizing ration bars into two. He accepted the half she offered, sitting opposite.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

The words weren’t cold, but there was renewed distance. Pryce noticed he had stopped saying her name. And she’d stopped saying his. Perhaps easier to avoid that than revert to the inevitable Grand Admiral and Governor, she thought, the idea oddly upsetting. She didn’t like it, and couldn’t come up with a way to fix it. Stupid of them to try, she supposed. People like them weren’t meant for normal relationships, anyway, were they? But Pryce didn’t like feeling she couldn’t do something, no matter what it was.

“Mitth’raw’nuruodo.” She said it correctly, she thought, meeting his eyes. If this was the only time she could say his name, why not practice?

The lower half of his mouth slid to the left, as if uncertain how to respond. And Pryce liked that, liked seeing the reaction and hesitation. She kept her eyes on his.

“Arihnda.” He seemed to understand now. His lips resolved into a hint of a smile.

“Thank you for accompanying me today.”

It was not quite sufficient, not quite clever enough for what she’d hoped, but it was better than silence and reflection over roles and titles and impossible deviations from such things.

“It is my pleasure.”

He sounded sincere, and both of them took another bite of rubbery rations as if choreographed. Pryce felt ridiculously close to him in that moment, and wished there was something she could do to explain. But nothing was acceptable or appropriate. She finished the ration bar, and stood up, feeling the stab against her skin of the kyber crystal in her thin pants. She’d forgotten it was there.

Pryce reached in the pocket and drew it out, looking at it glow faintly and then dim once more in her fingers. This crystal couldn’t decide if it liked her or not, she thought, unsmiling. If they _were_ sentient, she wondered what this one’s opinion was regarding her. She looked up and saw Thrawn watching her from the cavern floor where he still sat, apparently at ease. She impulsively thrust the crystal at him.

“Take it. You found it.”

Thrawn stood up smoothly, looked at her with a quirk of one eyebrow, then at the crystal in her fingers.

“I gave it to you,” he stated, as if she wasn’t speaking Basic.

She hadn’t thought of it that way. She had thought of it as tit for tat, shared profits. He took the orange kyber, she got the red. It was clear the orange “liked” him, by how it had thrived and radiated in his fingers. But she was trying to offer him all the profits. Except the giant one, of course. Now it was Pryce’s turn to look confused.

“Thank you,” she finally said. “But I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

Thrawn still made no move to take it from her fingers, and Pryce grabbed his hand, putting the crystal in the center and closing his fingers on top of it. She wasn’t trying to return a gift, she hoped that was clear, she was trying to thank him for his help. For being trustworthy and…nice. Yes, he was nice. It was a weird thought, but inescapable.

Slowly, Thrawn put the blood red kyber crystal into his pocket, but made no comment. She hoped she hadn’t insulted him, but they both appeared equally perplexed. Like too many of her plans, that one had backfired, but she wasn’t going to explain it further or apologize.

Picking up her pack, she started down the passageway to the mining shafts. It was late, and it would be well past twilight when they left the darkness and damp of the underground complex. Thrawn followed closely, and from time to time she thought she could feel his eyes on her gait, or evaluating her movements. It didn’t feel condescending, as she would have expected. It felt…solicitous.

When they reached the slippery floor that had been the cause of her injury, Pryce paused, cautious and considering. She was embarrassed, but also a bit worried at placing her weight again on the slick surface. 

Thrawn stepped to her side, transferring the glow rod to his right hand and offered his left as if it were completely natural. And she took it, as if that were also completely natural. 

They walked perhaps more slowly than necessary through the narrow, winding cavern, and although Pryce expected him to drop her fingers when the floor returned to merely damp instead of dripping wet, he did not. 

Pryce tried desperately to separate her thoughts from the feel of his skin, the coolness of his touch that still somehow imparted heat. He was being nice, she told herself again. Making sure she didn’t slip or break something. In fact, that was for his benefit as well, wasn’t it? If she got hurt, he’d have to carry her again or something equally humiliating. This was a good solution for them both. It was practical. It was logical. It was a strategy. That’s what a brilliant tactician like Thrawn did, how he operated. Holding hands…it couldn’t—shouldn’t—even be called that. Supporting her, preventing injury and incident, that’s what it was. Pryce attempted to smother the unfamiliar sentiment in her chest. She would will away any contemplation of possibility or potential. 

But his hand felt strong. And comfortable. And good.

The closer they got to the exit, the worse the feeling got, her heart clenching, her lungs shrinking. Pryce found herself wondering when he would let go. When that reassuring clasp on her hand would disappear and leave her bereft and alone again in the dark. It was driving her crazy, making her feel helpless and irrational and weak.

The instant they turned into the last passage leading to the side entrance, she pulled her fingers from his, wincing as she did so. It was the only solution. Take back control by doing herself what she had dreaded. Thrawn’s hand fell to his side as if he hadn’t noticed, and she felt something writhe in her guts, trying not to wonder why her stomach hurt so keenly.

At the mouth of the tunnel, they both paused. Pryce inhaled deeply. Lothal’s night air, polluted as it may be, was still a marked improvement over the clammy and dense oxygen buried beneath the ground. Thrawn leaned against an old crate, the action so incongruous with her impressions of the man—always rigid, upright, perfectly straight—that Pryce gaped a moment. The remnants of the torn and repurposed jacket had been stuffed into his pack, so her companion just wore the tight, dark shirt she’d seen beneath it this morning. 

It was so form fitting it bordered on pointless.

“Thank you, for allowing me to accompany you today, Arihnda.”

His voice was almost…casual, and it threw her even more than the rather distracting outline of his torso. She remembered his words earlier, about “observing” and “assisting.”

“I trust your observations will be of future benefit, Grand Admiral.” Another retreat, another devolution to the status quo that she rushed at headlong rather than suffered to arrive. “And I thank you for your assistance as well.”

She glanced down at her feet, remembering his socks. She’d have to return them, she realized. How awkward.

As if he read her thoughts, Thrawn straightened, pulling away from the crate’s support, and shook his head slightly.

“It was my pleasure, Governor Pryce. And please, no need to return the socks.”

She managed a thin smile, trying not to feel like his restitution of her title was a bit pointed, some sort of condemnation at her failure to maintain the illusion of…whatever today had been…a bit longer. “I imagine you have others.”

“Indeed.”

As grateful as she was for getting that out of the way, Pryce was still trying to find a way to say goodbye, when Thrawn rescued her again.

“Do let me know if you require any further assistance, Governor. And congratulations on your discovery.”

He didn’t wait for a response, and with a quick nod, turned and left in the direction of his own transport.

Pryce walked over to the crate he’d been leaning on, assuming a similar posture. She felt weak, and strange, and angry at herself without reason. In many ways, today had been a triumph. She could do what no other Governor had done in years—offer the Empire a weapons-grade kyber crystal capable of powering the most devastating destruction any Imperial engineer could imagine. So why did she feel hollowed out, everything shaded with tension and unrequited want? It was ludicrous, she thought, screwing her eyes shut, stifling the urge to scream.

Long after the moons had risen, Pryce got into her speeder and departed for her official residence.

~o~

A week later, the team of experts arrived from Coruscant to extract the giant kyber crystal. The Emperor himself sent his regards and appreciation to the people and Governor of Lothal for their contribution to the glory of the Empire.

Three weeks after that, Pryce received a package from the _Chimaera._ It was small, and unmarked. Her secretary brought it to her office, only noting that it had come via diplomatic post and therefore not been scanned.

Inside the parcel was a smaller box, black, also unmarked. She opened it, unfolding the paper stuck inside the lid. A rather archaic way of sending messages, she thought automatically. It was a handwriting she didn’t recognize, and why should she? People didn’t often send handwritten anything. And paper was expensive, she reflected, especially of this weight and quality.

It was cream colored, the ink a deep blue, the letters impeccably formed, as if they could be anything else.

_They are most content together._

A cryptic message, but its meaning plainly illustrated. Nestled in the shiny black material beneath were the two kyber crystals, the orange and the red. They both glowed with a powerful and easy strength, neither stronger than the other. The garish light that she’d remembered the orange emitting in Thrawn’s fingers seemed tamer, more agreeable, but no less beautiful, while the red, whose color had stuttered and stilled in her hand, now shone with a dark burgundy that somehow matched the rich tones of its partner. 

As Pryce lifted them out carefully, she saw they had been bound together with a thin, strong string that was intricately woven, creating a setting of sorts. It was a necklace. Clearly. For her.

She was afraid at first that if she touched them, the kyber crystals would react again, either dimmed by or extinguished through her fingers. But Thrawn’s note was predictably correct—the luminosity, the colors, had been stabilized through proximity. They were indeed content together. Perhaps that was their purpose, Pryce mused. To be united. To complement one another rather than exist separately.

Feeling only the slightest bit silly, she pulled the thin strand over her short bob, looking critically at the gems resting against her uniform. Completely unsuitable. She opened the tunic, slipped it beneath, and secured the front of her garment again, smoothing at the neck. The loop of the necklace was fine, and the crystals themselves small. She could feel them, she imagined, resonating just below the hollow of her throat. Or maybe it was something else. In any case, she could wear this, and no one would be the wiser. And she found she wanted to.

Tucking the note carefully back into the box, Pryce smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> My mandatory trope was the YOU! trope.  
> https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/YouExclamation
> 
> My optional tropes that I loosely incorporated were “on a hike” and “trapped in a cave.”
> 
> Thrawn’s military wisdom is all Sun Tzu’s, warped to fit into our galaxy far, far away.


End file.
